Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1887-03-23
A SECOND THOUGHT.

81 must have it, George" said Mr..
Whitman handsomel little wife. $50,
don't put on that sober face"
t'DId | put on sober face? ?" asked
the husband, with an attempt to
smile, that was anything but a sue
cess
eyes, sober as a man on trial for
his life," she replied. "There, dear,
clear it up, and look as if you had at
least one friend in the world. What
money lovers you men are"
Glow much will it cost ?" inquired
Mr.. Whitman.
There was another effort to look
cheerful and acquiescent.
"AbOut six pounds, was answered,
with Just a little faltering in the lady's
voice. for she knew the sum would
sound extravagant.
'fSix pounds! Why, Mary, do you
think / am made Of money ?"
And Mr.. Whitman's countenance
underwent a remarkable change of
expression.
"Ideclare, George" said his wife, a.
Little impatiently, "you look at me as
if were an object of fear, instead Of
affection. | don't think this is kind
of YOU. I've only had three silk
dresses since we were married, while
Amy Blight has had six or seven dur
ing the same period, and everyone of
hers cost more than mine. [ know
you think me extravagant, but wish
you had wife like some women [
could name, / rather think you'd
find out the difference before long"
'"There, there, pet, don't talk to me
after this fashion! I'll bring you the
money this evening-that is, il"
''No IFS nor butts, if you please. The
sentence is complete without them.
Thank you, dear III go this after
noon and buy the silk. So don't fail
to bring the money. / was In ---
street yesterday, and saw one of the
sweetest patterns | ever beheld. Just
suits my style and complexion. l
shall be inconsolable If It's gone. You
won't disappoint me?''
And Mrs. Whitman laid her soft,
white hand on the arm of her hus-
band and smiled with sweet persua-
sion in his face.
ooh, no. You shall have the
money" said Mr.. Whitman, turning
of from his wife, as she thought, g.
little abruptly, and hurrying from her
presence.
In his precipitation he had also for
gotten the usual parting kiss.
chats the way it is alwaysl" said
Mrs. Whitman, her whole manner
changing, as the sound of the closing
street door came Earring upon her
ears. Just say money to George,
and at once there is cloud in the
sky"
She sat down, pouting and half
angry.
''Six pounds for new dressp' men
tally calculated the husband of the
vain, pretty and thoughtless Mrs.
Whitman, as he shut the door after
him. ST promised to settle the coal
merchants bill to-day, but don't know
where the money is to come from.
The coal is nearly out, and more
must be ordered. Oh, DEAR I'm
discouraged. Every year / fall be-
hind hand. This winter I did hope
to get a little in advance; but if silk
dresses are to be the order of the day,
there's an end to that devoutly-to-b
Wished-for circumstance. Debt-debtl
L
But steadily now it is overpowering
me. Oh, if | could but disentangle
myself now, while | have the strength
OF early manhood; but the bonds that
hold me are weak. If Mary could see
as Isee-if l could make her under
stand rightly my position Alas,
that is hopeless. fear"
And Mr.. Whitman Quickened his
steps, because his heart beat quicker,
and his mind was unduly excited.
Not long after Mr.. Whitman had
left home, the postman delivered g.
letter TO his address. His wife exam
ined the writing on the envelope,
which was in a bold hand, and said
to herself as she didso, 81 wonder who
this can be ROM"
Something more than curiosity
moved her. There intruded on her
mind vague feeling Of disquiet, as
if the missive bore unpleasant news
for her husband. The stamp showed
it TO be g. city letter. Several times
of late such letters had come to his
address, and she noticed that he read
them hurriedly, thrust them without
remark, into his pocket, and became
suddenly silent and gloomy.
Mrs. Whitman turned the letter
over and over again in her hand, in
thoughtful way, and as she did so, the
image of her husband, sober faced
and silent as he had become for most
OF the time of late, presented itself
with unusual vividness. Sympathy
stole into her heart.
"Poor George" she said, as the
feeling increased; ''I'm afraid some
thing is going wrong with him."
Placing the letter on the mantle
piece, where her husband could see it
when he came in, Mrs. Whitman en-
tered upon some household duties;
but a strange impression, as of
weight, lay upon her heert-a sense
of impending evil-a vague, troubled
disturbance of her usual inward self
satisfaction.
If the thought OF Mrs. Whitman re-